childish deer. spotted and very appealing in appearance. Mother will be near by and hopefully, no cars speeding along will meet up with soft, colored, spotted fawn.
He thought of a fawn when he looked into her eyes. They were young eyes, he thought. “Eyes of the innocent,” kept ringing through his head until he thought his head would explode.
God, do you have to fawn over him like that? she grimaced in my direction. But she didn’t know that he had not yet written a will, nor did she know about the suitcases full of money under the bed…
I saw the fawn squeeze out her mother’s animal vagina. It was like a baby horse just fell out of a sewage tunnel and out into a quarry. The quarry was actually the ground. The ground was hard but the fawn managed to walk.
Any girl would have fawned over him. But to her it was more than just the looks, it was that something that was hidden below the surfice that only she could see. They shared something. That something something would prove to be more important than anything else that i could tell you about from this moment in time.
Fawn. Funny word for a name, yes? Well my mother thought it was beautiful. Good enough for a middle name, I suppose. I’m glad it’s not mine though. I wouldn’t like being “fawned” over all the time. I much prefer my middle names. I managed two, somehow, ironic as they may be because I’m neither willowy nor graceful. They are pretty though.
There once was a deer named flory. Flory fell in love with a spider; the romance was forbidden. The spider, Jupiter, was in love with Flory’s best friend. A love triangle.
They are all fawning, every one, because they know where you stand. On a carefully built foundation. Each brick put in place over the years, cemented by the slow and patient work of daylight hours and love. They beg you to come down, beg you to be one of them, because they want to scramble up in your place.
The little fawn was frolciking through the woods. She was mad because I couldn’t spell, and I was in charge of writeing about her. It got embarraaassing after a whie, becuase that fawn was laughing at me. that darn fawn. i hate it.
It was cold out and she looked like a fawn in the middle of everything so overwhelming. She was tiny and unstable. Unable to go in a direction by herself.
It’s not a fan, but it can be fun. If you want this is enuf…. Some think of a yawn or a lawn, or something a bit tawnie. But i’s just a fawn, a doe-eyed baby deer. What were you thinking? That I’m not thinking? You’re right. I’m just rambling. Musing about a word at the top of my screen. And wondering…. When do 60 seconds get over?
Good, that’s right; hide right there. Hide quiet. Hide safe. It smells like fall, doesn’t it, all the leaves crunching underfoot, but not too loudly, the sun filtering through the dense leaves overhead, snuggled up to the rough bark of a tree and silent, quiet, safe, sunlight-dappled and belonging to the fall forest. Rest quiet, little one; you’re safe here.
The lion the witch and the wardrobe was a great part of my early childhood literature-wise but the films disappointed me massively, have no desire to see them anymore, but Mr Tumnus will always be a great reminder of those early childhood times.
There he was, fawning over her, acting like she was the most beautiful thing in the world. I know that I had no right to feel that it should have been me that was the object of his attentions… But still, it pierced my heart each time I saw them touch.
A baby fawn hides deep in the forest hidden by the arrey of leaves, the beems of sunlight sent to mislead stragglers much like the will o wisps. The fawn will not survive on it’s own, it’s mother was shot only moments before a hunter returns to his village triumph not realizing the death he had just caused.
i’m not too sure what a fawn is but i think it is some sort of animal. If it is that is good because animals are pretty cute. some animals are more cute than others, for example i would take a bear over a rat anyway. A key risk involved with that choice is that a bear poses far greater a phsyical threat than a rat does. This is assuming that the bear touches you. Assuming some distance rats can prove more dangerous than bears due to the diseases that they harbour which can be passed on via the air.
i saw it sitting there. in and amongst the fawn, but I could only stare. All movement inside of me was dis-enabeld and all I could do was gawp at the beauty of nature.
A baby deer opens it’s eyes for the first time as it sees the world. A bright arrey of leaves the warmth of it’s mother’s stomach, the beam of light that slips through the trees welcoming the newborn. It blinks several times as if testing it’s sight before snuggling deeper next to it’s mother.
The small fawn flew right past me as I walked through the morning fog. The coffee cup warming my hands. Its beauty and the way it ran free, frolicking through the leaves gave me the first laugh I’d had in a long while.
The lion the witch and the wardrobe is a wonderful book. Full of mystery and wonder. The fawn plays the central role of fall guy and bizarre animal romantic love interest. Classic Literature.
fawning over the one that never was. fawning is the inescapable punishment awaiting the one that never did. see the moment, and grasp it. tomorrow, I will not fawn. i promise you. A x
his cigarette tattooed finger tips
Once soft pink skin now fawn and flawed
Drew to his lips as she breathed in
Waiting for the curtain to draw
As the notes on the bedside table
Folded in on themselves
I’m trying not to think scoffs outside I’m so tired of everyone and everything in this world. I just want og , he’s everything for me. I can’t believ he loves me no matter who I am. I want to jeust fly and I want to grow old and have a ginger boy I like jelly and I like putting and I’m fat and why do people care?
Once upon a time there was a queen and she was beautiful like summer und cruel like winter. The forest belonged to her and all the wild animals that lived there.
And one day, she had them all killed.
No happily ever after.
i remember driving with you, seeing a baby deer run in front of your car. you pretended like you were going to hit it and that’s why i told you to drive safe, don’t hit any deer, every time you left my house after that. you’d smile, kiss me one more time and tell me you’d text me when you made it home. you’d screw with me, text me that you hit a giant deer even though i knew you didn’t. miss that.
The more people fawn over me the more I feel like a fraud. Being touted as something above and beyond expectations makes meeting just the bare minimum feel very, very unsatisfying. Somebody please just be harshly critical with me. I’m no snowflake.
Why must I keep getting fawn as a word? Fawn Hall was an important figure in the, um, Reagan administration I think? She was hot. Blonde hair. Her image was everywhere. I see her raising her right hand to testify. Oliver North! That’s it.
I just wrote about a fawn in the forest but now I’ll write again. He was a guy you didn’t want to be around for long – the way he would fawn over you was enough to make you crazy. I usually blocked his calls and hoped I wouldn’t run into him.
I glanced at her with every step she took, her hair swishing back and forth. It was amazing I didn’t get whiplash from swiveling around to see her every move that she made. She would’ve shook her head and sighed, but she was my daughter. What could I do but fawn over her?
He was fawning. She could see him doing it. He was fawning on another nubile, hapless young girl who would be overawed by this older man taking such an interest in her. Again! How dare he do this right in front of her? As though she weren’t standing five feet away watching him do it. At least before he’d been discreet…ish. Okay, he hadn’t, but she had thought he might have been. Or she had been in denial. In any case, it had been different before.
The forest was quiet; only the waves crashing on the shore could be heard distantly. Across the field next to the forest, a mother deer and her fawn grazed calmly.
A word I don’t know. Because English is not my mother tongue. So I can only speculate about the meaning. Is it a verb? Or a noun? So I’m sitting here, typing like an idot, having no idea what I’m doing here at all. Thank god time’s up!
I’ve already done fawn–hoped for something new. A dog, coyote, perhaps a rabbit.
childish deer. spotted and very appealing in appearance. Mother will be near by and hopefully, no cars speeding along will meet up with soft, colored, spotted fawn.
He thought of a fawn when he looked into her eyes. They were young eyes, he thought. “Eyes of the innocent,” kept ringing through his head until he thought his head would explode.
God, do you have to fawn over him like that? she grimaced in my direction. But she didn’t know that he had not yet written a will, nor did she know about the suitcases full of money under the bed…
I saw the fawn squeeze out her mother’s animal vagina. It was like a baby horse just fell out of a sewage tunnel and out into a quarry. The quarry was actually the ground. The ground was hard but the fawn managed to walk.
Any girl would have fawned over him. But to her it was more than just the looks, it was that something that was hidden below the surfice that only she could see. They shared something. That something something would prove to be more important than anything else that i could tell you about from this moment in time.
Fawn. Funny word for a name, yes? Well my mother thought it was beautiful. Good enough for a middle name, I suppose. I’m glad it’s not mine though. I wouldn’t like being “fawned” over all the time. I much prefer my middle names. I managed two, somehow, ironic as they may be because I’m neither willowy nor graceful. They are pretty though.
I stopped
face to face with a mother
and a fawn
they stared at me
with fear
I wasn’t there to hurt them
I’m only here to breathe,
I never thought I’d fawn over a celebrity. But I am. Oh deer what has my life become. D’oh.
There once was a deer named flory. Flory fell in love with a spider; the romance was forbidden. The spider, Jupiter, was in love with Flory’s best friend. A love triangle.
They are all fawning, every one, because they know where you stand. On a carefully built foundation. Each brick put in place over the years, cemented by the slow and patient work of daylight hours and love. They beg you to come down, beg you to be one of them, because they want to scramble up in your place.
The little fawn was frolciking through the woods. She was mad because I couldn’t spell, and I was in charge of writeing about her. It got embarraaassing after a whie, becuase that fawn was laughing at me. that darn fawn. i hate it.
Beauty in the newness of life. The small dots scattered on the small creature’s back. Stumbling to get on his feet. The little fawn bas.
It was cold out and she looked like a fawn in the middle of everything so overwhelming. She was tiny and unstable. Unable to go in a direction by herself.
It’s not a fan, but it can be fun. If you want this is enuf…. Some think of a yawn or a lawn, or something a bit tawnie. But i’s just a fawn, a doe-eyed baby deer. What were you thinking? That I’m not thinking? You’re right. I’m just rambling. Musing about a word at the top of my screen. And wondering…. When do 60 seconds get over?
Good, that’s right; hide right there. Hide quiet. Hide safe. It smells like fall, doesn’t it, all the leaves crunching underfoot, but not too loudly, the sun filtering through the dense leaves overhead, snuggled up to the rough bark of a tree and silent, quiet, safe, sunlight-dappled and belonging to the fall forest. Rest quiet, little one; you’re safe here.
The lion the witch and the wardrobe was a great part of my early childhood literature-wise but the films disappointed me massively, have no desire to see them anymore, but Mr Tumnus will always be a great reminder of those early childhood times.
There he was, fawning over her, acting like she was the most beautiful thing in the world. I know that I had no right to feel that it should have been me that was the object of his attentions… But still, it pierced my heart each time I saw them touch.
A baby fawn hides deep in the forest hidden by the arrey of leaves, the beems of sunlight sent to mislead stragglers much like the will o wisps. The fawn will not survive on it’s own, it’s mother was shot only moments before a hunter returns to his village triumph not realizing the death he had just caused.
i’m not too sure what a fawn is but i think it is some sort of animal. If it is that is good because animals are pretty cute. some animals are more cute than others, for example i would take a bear over a rat anyway. A key risk involved with that choice is that a bear poses far greater a phsyical threat than a rat does. This is assuming that the bear touches you. Assuming some distance rats can prove more dangerous than bears due to the diseases that they harbour which can be passed on via the air.
i saw it sitting there. in and amongst the fawn, but I could only stare. All movement inside of me was dis-enabeld and all I could do was gawp at the beauty of nature.
A baby deer opens it’s eyes for the first time as it sees the world. A bright arrey of leaves the warmth of it’s mother’s stomach, the beam of light that slips through the trees welcoming the newborn. It blinks several times as if testing it’s sight before snuggling deeper next to it’s mother.
fawn
dawn
pawn
spawn
spain
spin
pin
pi
i
The small fawn flew right past me as I walked through the morning fog. The coffee cup warming my hands. Its beauty and the way it ran free, frolicking through the leaves gave me the first laugh I’d had in a long while.
The lion the witch and the wardrobe is a wonderful book. Full of mystery and wonder. The fawn plays the central role of fall guy and bizarre animal romantic love interest. Classic Literature.
Not a yawn. It’s a small deer like creature. Bambi if you will. Not a Bimbo. Tulisa. Bambi had the X factor, and his sob story was great. Mum Died.
His movements were gentle, careful not to harm her. His touch soft as a fawn’s ear.
fawning over the one that never was. fawning is the inescapable punishment awaiting the one that never did. see the moment, and grasp it. tomorrow, I will not fawn. i promise you. A x
his cigarette tattooed finger tips
Once soft pink skin now fawn and flawed
Drew to his lips as she breathed in
Waiting for the curtain to draw
As the notes on the bedside table
Folded in on themselves
I’m trying not to think scoffs outside I’m so tired of everyone and everything in this world. I just want og , he’s everything for me. I can’t believ he loves me no matter who I am. I want to jeust fly and I want to grow old and have a ginger boy I like jelly and I like putting and I’m fat and why do people care?
Once upon a time there was a queen and she was beautiful like summer und cruel like winter. The forest belonged to her and all the wild animals that lived there.
And one day, she had them all killed.
No happily ever after.
i remember driving with you, seeing a baby deer run in front of your car. you pretended like you were going to hit it and that’s why i told you to drive safe, don’t hit any deer, every time you left my house after that. you’d smile, kiss me one more time and tell me you’d text me when you made it home. you’d screw with me, text me that you hit a giant deer even though i knew you didn’t. miss that.
The more people fawn over me the more I feel like a fraud. Being touted as something above and beyond expectations makes meeting just the bare minimum feel very, very unsatisfying. Somebody please just be harshly critical with me. I’m no snowflake.
Why must I keep getting fawn as a word? Fawn Hall was an important figure in the, um, Reagan administration I think? She was hot. Blonde hair. Her image was everywhere. I see her raising her right hand to testify. Oliver North! That’s it.
I just wrote about a fawn in the forest but now I’ll write again. He was a guy you didn’t want to be around for long – the way he would fawn over you was enough to make you crazy. I usually blocked his calls and hoped I wouldn’t run into him.
I glanced at her with every step she took, her hair swishing back and forth. It was amazing I didn’t get whiplash from swiveling around to see her every move that she made. She would’ve shook her head and sighed, but she was my daughter. What could I do but fawn over her?
He was fawning. She could see him doing it. He was fawning on another nubile, hapless young girl who would be overawed by this older man taking such an interest in her. Again! How dare he do this right in front of her? As though she weren’t standing five feet away watching him do it. At least before he’d been discreet…ish. Okay, he hadn’t, but she had thought he might have been. Or she had been in denial. In any case, it had been different before.
The forest was quiet; only the waves crashing on the shore could be heard distantly. Across the field next to the forest, a mother deer and her fawn grazed calmly.
No.
A word I don’t know. Because English is not my mother tongue. So I can only speculate about the meaning. Is it a verb? Or a noun? So I’m sitting here, typing like an idot, having no idea what I’m doing here at all. Thank god time’s up!